


are you brave enough to meet the desires that you seek

by myialeighanne



Series: Kinktober 2020 [18]
Category: The Witch (2016)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Lactation, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27114751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myialeighanne/pseuds/myialeighanne
Summary: song: devil's playground - the rigs
Relationships: Black Philip/Thomasin (The Witch)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977094
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	are you brave enough to meet the desires that you seek

**Author's Note:**

> song: devil's playground - the rigs

Tonight is Samhain, and Thomasin can hardly stand the strange feeling sweeping through her body, mind and soul. Excitement and eagerness and trepidation mixing together and leaving her restless. Her closest sister-witch Elizabeth had told her that Black Philip always joins them for their celebrations, and this will be the first time she’s been in his presence since that night. The night he gifted her the witch that killed her brother, the night he blessed her with his seed by the light of the pyre. 

She goes about her preparations, working around her swollen belly, and lets her mind wander until the sun goes down and the moon begins to rise, full and blue. She knows, in her heart, that Black Philip loves all of his daughters deeply, truly, and unconditionally, but she can’t stop the little voice in her head that questions if he’ll find her body pleasing as it is now. 

Her worries are proven unfounded when he comes to her as she’s readying to join her sisters, in his manly form, bare and erect and bathed in shadows. Her whole body warms at the sight of him, and she’s reverent as she reaches for him.

“Father,” she breathes, trembling with the all-consuming joy and awe she always feels with him, hands shaking as they brush his face. 

He smiles at her gently, making all the warmth in her body go to her core, and he brings his own hands, large and calloused, to rest on her belly. 

“My sweet Thomasin,” he says, tilting his head to kiss her fingers, “I desire to take thee before the festivities begin, if thou desires so as well,” 

Thomasin always desires him, her father, her lord, and she tells him so unabashedly. 

His smile grows wider, darker at her words, and they do not speak again as he guides her to the simple bed in the corner of the cabin, helping her settle on her back and kneeling in front of her. 

She’d once asked him why he always knelt, as powerful and terrifying as he is, and he’d told her there was no shame in the love he had for his daughters, no shame in providing them pleasure. And pleasure he does provide. 

She only wears a light shift, as her and her sister's clothes always ended up being discarded during their activities, and Black Philip wastes no time putting his mouth to her cunt, sliding his tongue through her wet folds and over her most sensitive spot, licking and sucking and reveling in the proof of her love. His hands slide up over her belly, cupping her full, aching breasts, thumbs rubbing over her hardened buds, flicking back and forth until she feels milk seep out. He must feel it too, pulling away from her cunt and moving to loom over her, pitch-black eyes staring into hers as he tears her shift off and covers her with his much larger body. 

his mouth is wet and warm when he puts it to her nipple, suckling like a babe and making her gasp, back bowing off the bed. He doesn’t stop or hold her still, let’s he writhe underneath him as he drinks his fill, moving to her other breast, before finally guiding his length to her slit, spearing her on it before she can so much as catch her breath. 

She wails, so full and stretched she thinks she may die, because surely her mortal body was not made to handle this kind of euphoria. She twists and screams and peaks, over and over until she’s burning up, listening to her father's sweet words, his voice thick as molasses as he tells her how beautiful she looks with his child, rutting into her like a beast. He likes to spill inside of his daughters, painting their insides with his seed so that it may take and bless them as it blessed her, but tonight he pulls away, leaving her bereft, and paints the taut skin of her belly instead. She reaches down to touch it, gathers it onto her fingers and sucks it off, staring into his eyes to see the way they flicker, and she feels like preening as he watches her tongue dance. 

He helps her onto her feet, legs still wobbly, and he sets out with her to meet her sisters at the mother tree, where no doubt they will couple again underneath the moon. she doesn’t bother putting on another shift, nor does she wipe his seed off of her, knowing a number of her sisters would enjoy licking it off of her, and she thinks of names for the baby as they walk, content that her Father will never let them want for anything.


End file.
